


Gravity

by Bluewhogirl



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Episode: s06e23 Life Sentence, F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, Original Character(s), Post-Episode: s06e23 Life Sentence, Prison, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-02 18:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewhogirl/pseuds/Bluewhogirl
Summary: Oliver made a decision without anyone else's input. Now his wife and son are alone, running and hiding. This is the story of Felicity and William.





	1. Life Sentence.

**Five months ago.**

I feel the tears burn my eyes as Oliver just refuses to fucking fight. To fight for William, to fight for me… How could he? He’s my husband and he’s meant to be there and support me, to support his 12-year-old son! “During your trial… you said that you didn’t want to go public, because you wanted a life after the Green Arrow. This is that life! You can-”

 

Oliver finally looks up at me. “I wanted to stop Diaz and I wanted to save you and William more.” He interrupts. The tears burn. I want to understand why he’s doing this. I want to understand why he’s not fighting! I want to understand how he can just leave us… Screw Watson, screw everything. He should know William and I would do anything for him, literally anything. We could spend our lives on the run and it would be fine because we would be together. We could have the white picket fence, Lyla would help with that in a heartbeat. “Not everything went our way. Quentin and…” A small, deep sigh leaves my lips. Of course, he blames himself for Quentin and everything else. Is that what’s encouraging this new ‘lets-give-up’ attitude? “That protective custody that we talked about… for the two of you, during my trial.”

 

It feels like all of the air left my lungs as he looks at me. It’s brief but it’s as if he’s pleading with me, begging me. No, he can’t ask me to do this… he literally can’t ask me to do this. Has he thought this through? Does he know what’ll happen? William and I will never see him, John or anyone else in Star City ever again. “No!” My voice is quieter than I intended and just filled with emotion.

 

“Lyla’s gonna handle everything, and I, uh,” I can’t stop the sob. “I promise, just until Diaz is off the board.” The tears finally come down. He has thought this threw… and it makes sense. No matter what, if the world knows he’s the Green Arrow, that’s it. Game over. All of Oliver’s family and friends would be in danger for the rest of their lives. John, Thea and everyone else could defend themselves. I can’t physically defend William… William doesn’t know how to fight. He’ll be in danger all of them time.

 

“No!” I hit my fist on the table, causing a mild sharp pain to shoot up my arm. “I refuse to believe that this is the only opinion!” He can’t leave! What will happen to them? Suddenly, I couldn’t stop the sobs from escaping.  The tears burned my eyes. I’m losing him. I’m losing my husband, the love of my life.

 

“We won back the city.” Oliver smiled sadly. This was always their aim. Every time a bad guy threatened the city, the aim was to get it back, to keep people safe. But right now, I didn’t give a fuck about anyone else apart from us, our family, both William and the team. How could they win the city back and lose the person who made it safe, who would trade his life to keep the city and the people of that city safe while choosing to lose their family? “We got it back.” I watch a new wave of sadness wash over him. That’s my Oliver… He feels sadness and pain more than he lets on. “I thought I lost it...” He admits.

 

I shake my head slowly as I bend down, to be face to face with him. “Oliver…” I breathes. “You didn’t do that alone.” I hold his hands. They usually feel warm and comforting but this time, they are cold.

 

“I know. Diaz tried to kill everyone close to me. I had to find a way to protect everybody.” I hold his hands tightly, not willing to let him go. “This was the way.” Is he referring to his unilateral decision to hand himself over to the FBI, effectively ending his life? Or is he talking about his version of witness protection for William and I? Because neither way actually works or is a good plan. “Is William here?” Oh god… William. What is he gonna do? How am I gonna parent him? I know I’m 29 and biologically old enough to have a 12 year old, but… I’m not ready. Not to do this by myself.

 

I look at Oliver. He’s waiting for an answer. “Yes. He’s outside.” I breathe in, panic and fear laced in my voice. “He’s scared, he’s confused…” How am I going to do this? “He’s wondering how the woman he’s known for less than a year is suddenly his only parent…” I wonder if William actually feels like this or if it’s more that I do.

 

“Would you please go get him?” His eyes are soft, almost as if he knows I’m scared.

 

I nod. “Yeah” My voice cracks. I pull myself up and walk to the door. I stop, wiping my eyes. He shouldn’t see me cry. ‘Be strong Felicity. Be strong.’ I open the door, and see him, standing there. “Hey.” I whisper at the boy, who’s almost my height. I feel the fear rise in me. Am I actually going to do this? Am I actually going into this protection BS with William? Forcing him to never see his father again?

 

I watch Oliver stand up, as I hold on to William. I hear in his voice that he’s scared, and it breaks me. “I’m gonna explain everything to you.” I turn around, trying to stifle the sob but I can’t. This is it. This is actually the end. I feel my body shaking. I can’t believe this is happening. I hear Oliver begin by telling William about the Queen’s Gambit and the night he left, and I can’t hear this. I can’t hear it again, but I feel stuck to the floor. It’s like something’s holding me down, I can’t move so I’m stuck, hearing about the island, China, Russia, when he came back… Everything. And all I can do is cry.

 

I don’t know how long has passed. Watson is actually letting Oliver has time to say goodbye. Maybe she feels some kind of human emotion and is letting us have the time needed to process this. Oliver has finished talking about his time as the Vigilante, Arrow and Green Arrow. I don’t have any more tears, but William does. I can see Oliver watching his son cry is killing him. I take out my phone. 17:21. We don’t have long to do this. I begin thinking about our plans, thinking about William. Maybe somewhere on the East coast. That way, William can go to a college near by, maybe Princeton or Stanford… Yeah, they have good math programes. And if he didn’t want to do math, there would be excellent other schools, and lots of opportunities… No yearly terrorist attacks, no city plagued by evil like Star City. That’s what Samantha would’ve wanted… That’s what Oliver wanted. Maybe they could even leave the US. Go somewhere else, where no one would know of the Green Arrow really. Maybe somewhere were the FBI couldn’t get to them… I turn my attention back to my two guys. Oliver’s talking to him about the facts of life, about girls and boys – but William makes it clear he doesn’t like boys ‘like that.’ I listen quietly as Oliver tells William to look after me and make sure I don’t go more than 16 hours without sleeping and eating, referring to the time we found out Ray was alive. He continues to tell him to study hard and that grades do matter. I see William rest his elbows on his knees and lean his head in his hands. Oliver’s telling William everything that a father tells a son because he knows he won’t see us again and William knows it… My throat begins to hurt again as I feel the tears building.

 

I don’t know how I’m going to do this, I don’t know how I’m going to stay strong for William when I can barely stop myself from crying right now. The door opens, and Watson comes strolling in. “It’s time.” Its two simple words but they destroy me.

 

‘Be strong for William’ I repeat in my head, but I can’t. I feel both Oliver and William as Oliver hugs us both. I lean my head against his chest and just listen to his heartbeat. I’ve had to do this so many times when he’s been hurt or just as I wake up and I’m on his chest… I did it for 19 hours when I first found out he was the vigilante, I just listened to the machine beep and beep until he woke up… I didn’t know what to do then and I don’t know what to do now.

 

“Now, Mr. Queen.” She reinforces.

 

I look into Oliver’s eyes and I see the pain, the fear. As two agents come to hand cuff him, he kisses my forehead. Its all too brief but it’s a goodbye. I know it is. “I love you both!” He shouts at William and I as they pull him away from us. I feel William about to pull away from me, fighting to get his dad, so I just hold his arm, as tightly as I can. I keep expecting Oliver to fight but he doesn’t. He could easily escape and break away from them. We would run with him.

 

Outside of the room, theres a bunch of FBI agents and Lyla. Watson takes one arm and another agent has the other. I hold on to William but I don’t know what to say. Nothing I do say will make him feel better. I just have to be brave for him. As we walk outside, we’re bombarded with press, their cameras blinding us, their questions too loud for a real response. He stops briefly, not that Watson looks too happy with that.

 

We listen to Oliver, admitting he’s the Green Arrow, and that he’s messed up. He gives a speech about hope and to be better, stronger people. I hear myself gasping for air, like I can’t breathe, and William just turns into me, crying. I hug him tightly. “It’s going to be okay, we will be okay.” My voice is so small, I’m not sure if he even hears it. I’m not even sure if I believe my own words.

 

As Oliver’s speech ends, the crowd of press irrupts into questions and William turns around. Oliver glances over at us once again. “No…” I hear William breathe. “No! Dad!” He fights against my grip on him and there’s a good chance he can break free. “Dad, come back! You promised!” He screams but it’s not anger, its fear. “You promised you’d never leave me, dad!”

 

“William, stop.” I’m crying again. I didn’t even realise.

 

“Dad!” I’m becoming more aware of the stares at us, some with compassion, others just wanting to get their story for the ten o’clock news. “Dad, don’t go, please! Don’t leave me.” I feel William begin to give up as he buckles to the ground, sobbing. I fall to my knees next to him, and I just hug him as he cries.

 

I don’t know how to do this...


	2. Goodbye

**Five months ago.**

We run inside our home. It doesn’t feel like home, It’s cold, lifeless. But I don’t dwell on it. I can’t. I slam the door, hard, locking every lock and grabbing the gun Dig insisted I learn to use months ago. Suddenly, I’m happy he insisted on this. “William, get your duffle bag, and pack only the essentials, okay?” He nods, rapidly and rushes off without saying a word.

 

I run into our room and I almost crack again. Oliver’s cufflinks are on the dresser, a suit hanging up waiting for him… even the room smells like his aftershave. I shake my head. I run to our closet and push everything out of the way until I get to the safe. I hold my thumb against the fingerprint reader and turn the dial to the 6-digit code. 10-24-12. The date we first met. Opening the safe, I see the ten thousand dollars we hid, with the credit and debit cards, fake IDs, passports.

 

This was our plan… well his plan. If something bad happened, we would take the money and start new lives. We planned someone hot, with a beach. Maybe Aruba or Curaçao… Or somewhere in Europe, where there would be good colleges for William. But now it’s just the two of us. I could find out where William wanted to go, it could be a decision both of us made. Is that something a 12-year-old should have a say in? Should a kid his age be allowed to pack? Should I be supervising him right now? I didn’t know if it was my fear talking right now or if this was an actual problem. I mean, William has always been reliable and mature… I shake my head. Got to concentrate. I pull out the three piles of money, four credit cards and the fake IDs for William and I. Our new names are Dylan and Jennifer Smith from Chicago, Illinois. I don’t even know why or how Oliver came up with these names… Maybe it was because there were so many Dylan and Jennifer Smith’s in Illinois alone. Popular names, easy to disappear.

 

I see Oliver’s ID, Adam Smith. I run my fingers gently over his face, wishing more than anything that it was the real thing. I feel another pang in my heart and just like that, I’m angry again. _He just gave up. We could’ve fought. We could’ve done something. Going to Watson to beat Diaz was not the answer, it was not the solution in comparison to everything he gave up._ I just keep thinking how he could do this, how he could put William and I in this situation, to never see him again… How he could _leave his son just like my dad left me._ I shake the unpleasant thoughts out of my mind. Oliver is not my father. My father left for selfish reasons… Oliver did what he always does… _He put the city first._ It made me fall in love with him, I knew it when I married him. I breathe out.

 

I put Oliver’s ID, and anything else that could identify our new lives on our bed. _These will go first_. I throw my jacket on my bed, knowing it won’t be long until someone comes looking. John, Curtis, Diaz, every other bad guy who has something against the Green Arrow… The list goes on. I unzip the back of my dress, letting it fall to the floor, and put on a pair of black jeans, and I pull on a top. I’m not even sure which one it is. I pull a few more jeans out, folding them badly before stuffing them into the duffle bag. Then some tops, a jumper and some underwear. Whatever else I need, I’ll buy. I grab my tablet, my faithful tablet.

 

I sit on Oliver’s side of the bed. I stroke his pillow gently. _How am I meant to do this?_ I have never felt more doubt or fear before… This time I know Oliver isn’t coming to save me or William, I’m not in his ear or using cam to see he’s safe… I can’t tell if he’s hurt, upset, anything. He can’t protect William and I either, meaning I have to… _Me!_ The one who usually gets herself in more trouble than stays away from it. I want to write an email to John but I can’t. No one can know where we are, no one can know we’re alive…

 

I sniffle, as tears drop on to my tablet. _I can’t say anything. We need to disappear._ I wipe my tears and I begin setting codes, triggering the following events. _19:21_. We have to go. I pull a thin silver chain from the drawers and remove my engagement and wedding rings, sliding them on the chain. _I will never leave these,_ I tell myself as I put the chain over my head. _Never._ I finally get my leather jacket and I’m ready. I press enter on the tablet, finalizing the last bit of code. We have 10 minutes.

 

“William!” I call out. We need to be out of here in 8 minutes, otherwise it will fail. I grab the duffle bag, and look back at our room… The place we’ve argued, talked, held each other, cried, made love… I look at the picture of our wedding reception, Oliver and I, happy. _We’ll never be that happy again._ No. I cannot cry. “William.” I turn, swallowing hard. I walk into his bedroom and he’s frozen. He’s standing by his dresser, looking into it. The duffle bag is empty. _Nothing packed._ “William, whats wrong?” I panic, turning him.

 

He looks at me and my heart shatters. He has tears streaming down his face, his eyes and nose, both red. “I don’t know what to pack.” His voice breaks. I pull him into a hug and he just breaks down. We don’t have time for this.

 

I pull away, which takes him by surprise. “William, I am so sorry but we just don’t have time right now, we need to be out of here in 7 minutes. I’m going to tell you my golden rule for packing. Underwear, K?” I smile weakly as he just nods. “No matter what, you need underwear. Then two jeans, two shirts, a jumper and you should always wear a jacket. You grab underwear and whatever jacket you want to wear now and I’ll get everything else okay?”

 

He doesn’t say anything, he just nods. _He’s 12 and traumatized. Of course I should be supervising him._ I mentally kick myself for failing parenting already. I run to his closet, pulling out everything I said he needed. I then pick up a picture of him and Samantha, and another of him and his grandparents. I turn back to him, and he’s just staring at me. “Most important.” I say, looking him in the eye. He nods again, wiping his tears. I look at my watch. 19:29. “We need to run.” I grab my bag and look back at his room. I scan through the whole house as we run out the back. “Come on!” I grab his hand, despite knowing he can run faster than me and is already passing me. We’re on the top of the hill, about a quarter of a mile away when it goes off. The force of the explosion makes us fall forward, as bits of roof, a brick fly towards us.

 

We both turn around. The house is gone. It’s burning too hot… They’ll just say we went home and someone planted a bomb. “Was that why we had to leave?” William asks me. I mumble my response. “Now what?”

 

I swallow. “Now we run.” 


	3. October 12th.

**Present day**

I look in the mirror and I feel like a ghost. I’m empty. I don’t like seeing the person in the mirror, so I look down instead. There’s two hair ties on the dresser. I look at them, trying to decide if I should use the black one or the brown one. Hm. Does it matter? I pick up the brown one and put it on my wrist, before turning back to make the bed.

I smile to myself. _Usually it would be Oliver doing this._ It’s a bitter sweet thought that I think daily and have done for the last 4 months. At first, I just didn’t make the bed. Then I didn’t like coming back to a messy bed, so I started making it and that thought pops into my head every time. Oliver… _master of anything and everything_. He’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for, I mean, he picks things up very quickly, from archery and the _billion different ways to beat up_ a bad guy, to cooking and cleaning. I smile to myself. Although tech and computers are _my thing,_ after being with Oliver for a week, I knew I could teach him everything he really needs and maybe he could call on me for like… bullet-riddled laptops but really, he wouldn’t need me, would he? I always wondered how much I brought to the team, _maybe that because I can’t fight or defend myself, I’m more of a liability._

 

I chuckle to myself. _I guess we’ll never know._ I finish making the bed. The sheets aren’t my _usual thing,_ like my old apartment was multicolored but this one? It’s more… neutral. My bed covers have a storm pattern. Just dark clouds. I like it. It’s not what some people would expect but it’s the new Felicity or Jennifer.

 

I look down in the mirror one last time. Black jeans, Bean Coffee polo shirt and socks. K. I force a smile on my face. It’s small but works. “Dil-An!” I call out in a singsong voice. “You’re going to be late!”

 

“No I’m not!” I hear back. No further response.

 

I walk out of my room and I see William sitting on the couch, on his phone. _Ah, no wonder he didn’t say more._ “Okay…” I drag out the word longer than needed. He puts his phone down and grabs his shoes. “You’ve made your lunch?”

 

“Yep.” I watch him as he ties his laces on a worn-out pair of converse.

 

I stroll over, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, as I pull my hair back into a ponytail. “You’ve packed your homework?” I place a hair clip in my mouth, before placing it on an unruly strand of hair.

 

He turns to his backpack, zipping up the main compartment. “Uh-huh. Physics, math, social studies and I have my proposal for technology.”

 

“And you’ve actually packed your lunch, homework, metro ca-”

 

“Metro card, cell phone, notepads and I even managed to remember my pencil case.” William interrupts, smiling at me. “I remember to pack them, just like the last 33 days, Felicity.” He smiles at me, looking more and more like his dad every day.

 

I don’t smile back, I just sigh. It’s been five months, but William still can’t seem to get used to calling me Jennifer or answering quickly enough to his own new name. “ _Dylan_ ,” I stress his name, hoping he’ll take the hint. “I know you are very smart and more than capable but, my job is to make sure you have everything.” He just looks down at his feet, clearly knowing he messed up with the names again. It’s not his fault, it’s just an adjustment. I lift his chin up gently and smile at him. “Besides, one day in a few years, you’ll be off at college and you’ll forget your lunch.” I joke, poorly. “It’s happened to the best of us.” I pout.

 

“Did your mom do this stuff? Like ask you if you’ve got everything and wake you up?” He add, probably seeing the confused look on my face.

 

I smirk at him. “My mom…” A squeaky noise comes from my throat. “My mom barely remembered I had to go to school. And I learnt very early to make my own lunch or I won’t have anything at school.” I think back. I must’ve been 3 or 4 when I first made a PB&J sandwich because my mom was asleep. _I didn’t understand what it was like for her, working 14 hour days then coming home to a mess of a home._ Dad didn’t clean, and I was too young. Her boyfriends didn’t care either. “She worked a lot and… I guess at times, certain things just slipped her mind.” I clarify.

 

He just nods and we sit there, silently. I look at William and he looks like he’s in another world. Every time he does, I want to know what he’s thinking. He turns to me, noticing me staring, so I smile but he just half smiles in response, before shrugging. “If I went to a school closer, I wouldn’t need a metro card and I could come home for lunch. Why I have to go all that way to go to school, when there’s three schools in a six-block radius of here.” He complains. “It takes like 45 minutes to get there and I have to leave so early.”

 

I sigh and change my position so I’m now sitting next to him. Even sitting in this chair, anyone can see the height difference between us already… _and he’s just turned 13!_ I bump his arm playfully. “Because it’s one of the best science and math schools in New York City and you have classes that I could only have dreamt about, like programming and app-making…” I wrap one arm around him. “Things you love doing.”

 

He just shrugs again. “Not much anymore.” He mumbles and it breaks my heart. Ever since Oliver went to prison, this has been William. He doesn’t want to do any math or science related things. He even turned me down when I suggested we start building a model version of an eco-friendly plane that runs on electricity and emits water, something that we didn’t have time to do in Star City… “I better go.” He stands, breaking my hug. “What time will you be home tonight?”

 

I smile at him. “It’ll be a late one. Be home before dark and text me before-”

 

“I leave school and once I’m home. Lock all the doors and windows and hope there isn’t a gas leak because I wouldn’t be able to get out.” He adds the last bit on at the end, smirking. “I was actually thinking I could join an afterschool club. That way, you wouldn’t have to worry that I’m home alone for so long.”

 

“Oh, STEM?” I say hopefully.

 

He starts to walk towards the door. “No, uh… A boxing club. It’s for kids my age and it teach-”

 

“No.” My voice is soft but firm. He keeps talking about this, ever since we left Star City, he’s been saying that he wants to learn to fight, to defend and protect us… _Because Oliver made him promise to look after me._ “We have discussed this,” I sigh. “You don’t need to learn to fight to be like him-”

 

“I’m, uh, I’m going to be late.” He interrupts me, clearly annoyed. “I’ll see you later.”

 

William gives me a quick, stiff smile. One I’ve seen far too much from Oliver. But I don’t think too much about it, instead I smile back and say goodbye before I fling myself back on the couch. The apartment is too quiet and looks too bare without William, even when he’s in a corner brooding like his father or complaining about me not letting him learn how to fight. I sigh looking around the apartment. Despite only being in Brooklyn for three and a half months, it seemed like forever.

 

I smile to myself, remembering the month and a half, when we first travelled. It must’ve just looked like two rich, spoilt American’s burning through money on vacation, but it was all a distraction. We went everywhere and did everything, from parasailing in New Zealand, to Hiking in Peru. Or in my case, almost barfing in New Zealand and dying of heat exhaustion in Peru. But William wanted it to do it. And it was fun. _Nothing like almost losing every meal I’ve ever eaten and dying to take my mind off the fact I’m a single step-mom, my husband being in prison on a life sentence and the fact that I will never see my family, friends or Star City ever again._ It gave us a chance to disappear, remove all trace of us being alive. Keep moving, keep distracted but keep focused. Don’t think about Oliver, Star City or Diaz, but remember the world knows who the Green Arrow is. So, we have to change, be different.

 

I take a strand of my hair and twirl the pink lock around my finger. Not only was it a distraction, but travelling gave us a chance to disappear, remove all trace of us being alive. Keep moving, keep distracted but keep focused. Don’t think about Oliver, Star City or Diaz, but remember the world knows who the Green Arrow is. So we have to change, be different. After our names, my hair was the first big change. I dyed half of my hair pink. Then the makeup changed. Then the clothes changed. Then my personality changed.

 

William was less into change, with just growing out his hair slightly, but his height? _He is going to be as tall as Oliver any day now, maybe even taller._ I smile, missing the little boy that I first properly met on Lian Yu… at that point, he was shorter than me. Now? No. Do I like it? _Not so much._ Plus, he’s much more into the whole ‘I’m-rebelling-you-can’t-tell-me-what-to-do’ stage. It makes me feel for my mom and all parents. It makes me miss Oliver more. He would be able to deal with the angry-at-the-world thing and girls side. I’d deal with the school stuff and when he’s angry at Oliver or is just emotional about something else and other stuff. I struggle with him alone… I know he’s not as angry as it comes across and it’s more the fact that he’s scared… but…

 

My phone buzzes and it pulls me back into reality. It’s a text from William.

 

**_Don’t forget your lunch, left on counter_ **

****

I glance over at the kitchen counter, and sure enough, there’s a plastic container with something inside. _Who is really the parent here?_

 

**_Appreciated :)_ **

 

Less than 30 seconds later, there’s a reply.

 

**_You’re going to be late_ **

****

I look at the time. 07:24. “Oh frack!” _I’m going to be late._ I get up, pushing my memories and feelings to the side. _I don’t have the time to deal with all of that right now._ I grab my backpack, throwing in my keys, phone and lunch. It’s times like this that I wish I had Barry’s speed. Grabbing my coat, I run out the door. _Today will be a good day. Today will be a good day._

-

I barely make it to work on time and as soon as I do, Jack, the manager, is waiting by the electronic clock-in system. I almost roll my eyes. _I could easily hack it. It’s barely even hacking._ I could do that while making three lattes and an Americano. But I can’t. This was another part of the change. I can’t hack, because if I do, John and the others, not to mention every bad guy looking for us, could put two and two together. Inwardly I sigh but outwardly I smile and greet Jack, cheerfully as I clock in. Then I walk to the staff room, put my apron on, and try to hide everything I’m feeling. Jennifer smith. Single mom. High school education. Can barely use a computer. Needs to work extra hours and get tips to afford to buy her son a winter coat and new sneakers.

I smile as I reach the counter. “Good morning, what can I get you?”

 

-

The morning goes on without anything particularly interesting happening. It’s busy like every other day, a lot of people coming to get a cup of joe on their way to work or school. I’m on high alert but nothing stands out, just like every other day. It’s soon afternoon, and that means the lunchtime rush. Every weekday lunchtime, there’s a rush of customers. It’s just as bad as the morning, customers wanting their coffee but wanting it quickly so they can get back to work. What they don’t understand is that we only have two hands and can only go so fast. I hate this time. Too much going on, too much to pay attention to.

 

Becka hands me a coffee. “And that’s 2 dollars and 8 cents, have a tip-top day!” I say with a fake smile plastered on my face, as I hand the change to the women who just away with the stars on her phone. I sigh quietly, knowing that woman wasn’t going to put anything in the tip jar. After 5 months of working in this café, I’ve learnt the type of people who would leave tips and those who wouldn’t, and the ones on their phones defiantly weren’t tippers. For all of my faults, I try to be always conscious of my surroundings, giving eye contact, smiling… the little things. As the woman walked past the tip jar, the next person in the queue approached. “And what can I get you, sir?” I ask, as I slam the register shut.

 

The guy in front of me is a regular during my shift, and he always orders the same thing and leaves the same tip. “Latte, triple shot. Keep the change, sweet pea.” He smirks at me, handing me a 10 dollar bill. And of course, every time he comes, he has to flirt with me. “So, when does your shift end?” He presses. “Maybe I can take you out tonight?” A bigger-than-I’m-willing-to-admit part of me wishes Oliver was here, maybe put an arrow through him.

 

But instead, I just clench my jaw. _‘You need the tips,’_ I remind herself. ‘ _For William._ ’ I smile, politely, handing him back $3.87, which he puts in her tip jar, just like he did yesterday, and every other day for the last 5 months. “School tonight.” I lie with ease. _Oliver would be proud._

 

“I’m sure you could blow off a few classes, baby.” He purrs and it makes me feel sick. I’ve always despised men like him, the ones who can’t take a hint or won’t drop it. At first, it was okay, maybe he was just hopeful or determined, but now? Now it was disrespectful. _Luckily for him, Oliver wasn’t here. Otherwise he would have some pretty nasty hospital bills._ I want to use my loud voice to tell him how rude and creepy he is and just embarrass him, like he does me every shift. I want to grab my tablet and make his money disappear and let his boss know what a jerk he actually is. I want to do _something._ But, instead, I smile and tell him that I can’t but to have a _tip-top day_ , just like I have for the last 79 days that he’s come in. _Just smile and be friendly. Just get through the day Felicity._ I remind myself as the next customer approaches. This is how I’m making a living for William and I. _This is how._

 

\--

By the end of my 13-hour shift, I’m exhausted. _Note to self, Felicity, pulling a double shift isn’t the best thing to do_. But William is a growing boy. He needs clothes and shoes _all of the time._ He’s outgrowing everything. And clothes are expensive. He’s gotten used to second-hand clothes but… there's a few things he likes, like Converse. Everything else in his life has completely changed over the last two years… From having a normal life, to going into witness protection, to being kidnapped, to basically watching his mom die and then having to live with his father and a strange woman to now being in hiding with that strange woman… _Who am I to tell him that he can’t have a pair of shoes because working double shifts is tiring?_

 

I roll my neck in a circular motion, trying to release some pressure. “Jen!” I freeze upon hearing my new name, but I quickly recover. I turn and see two of my co-workers, Lizzie and Neya, walking towards me. Lizzie is a tall and leggy, blonde, _defiantly pre-island Oliver’s type._ She always wore clothes in a way that made her show off her _assets_ , as she calls them. Neya is an African American girl, with more of a 90’s style, with a lot of denim. _Also pre-island Oliver’s type. He wouldn’t have looked twice at me next to them._ “You have to come out with us! It’s payday!” Neya says in a sing-song voice while picking up my bag.

 

“Plus, my friend knows the promoter Cielo and we can get in, for _free_!” Lizzie continues. “Don’t say no!” She adds before I can say anything. They both go to each side of me and link their arms with mine, trapping me in the middle. “The night is young, we are all _beautiful_ 20-something-year-olds and your boy is more than capable of looking after himself!”

 

I scoff. “It’s almost midnight and he’s 13.” I say matter-of-factly.

 

“When I was 13, I was going to parties.” Neya smiles down at me. Lizzie agrees, adding that she was dating a Sophomore and went to high-school parties. “Come on, you never want to go out with us.” Neya pouts.

 

“I just worked a double. I’d like to feel my feet again, some point in my life. And, you know, babysitters are expensiv-”

 

“No, poor excuses!” Lizzie interrupts. “Alcohol and _lots_ of it makes you forget about your feet and the fact you worked a double. And Dylan is _13_! He probably wants a little alone time, get accustomed to his _body_ and _girls_ …”

 

I don’t even have to look in a mirror to see the face I’m making. _I do not want to think about William like this._ “I’m just tired.” We separate arms as we reach the front door. As soon as it opens, an ice cold breeze hits me. “Enjoy yourselves. Neya, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I half-smile. They quickly say goodbye and we walk away in opposite directions.

 

This walk always seems longer in the night, when the streets are quieter. I mean, it’s still Brooklyn, so there are people around, bars open, especially on a Friday night… _But it’s different than the morning._ It’s lonelier somehow. It takes me almost 20 minutes to get home and I’m freezing by the time I do. I shake of my jacket. “I hate cold!” I mumble under my breath, aware that William may be asleep. I quickly turn on a lamp, not wanting the bright main lights on. As I’m kicking off my shoes, I notice a small container in the kitchen. Walking over, I see clearly that William has left me dinner.

 

**_Heat for 3 minutes. Goodnight_ **

****

I can’t help but smile. _My caring sweet boy_. All I want to do is go straight to bed but I don’t want to waste his efforts, so I place the container in the microwave and throw myself down on the couch. I feel guilty that most nights he has to rely on himself to cook dinner, do his homework, entertain himself and just do everything a parent does. At least when Oliver and I were both busy, he had Raisa but now? He’s alone. I never appreciated how hard it must’ve been for my mom until moments of exhausted-clarity like now. I wish I could speak to her… _I wish she knew I was alive… I want my friends to turn to. I want someone, more so for William than myself but still._

 

The three beeps from the microwave alerts me that the three minutes are up. I slowly drag myself over to the kitchen, thinking of ways I could help William more and generally be there for him, while mentally kicking myself over spending our money so badly. Everything William wanted to do cost money. Then we needed more money to get an apartment, get furniture, bills… _everything just added up._ I take the first bite of the meatballs and spaghetti, a recipe no doubt from Pinterest. Like every other night since Oliver went to prison, the realisation hits me… _William needs more than me… He needs better than me._ But like every night since, I _always_ fail William.


	4. Dusk.

_I smile over at Oliver as he carves our turkey. I breathe in through my nose, taking in all the smells of thanksgiving and fall… pumpkin, ginger, cinnamon and wood from the fire. I turn to William and Ellie, smiling at both of our children, but there’s a feeling of sadness. William’s going to college soon, it’s our last thanksgiving as a family under one roof. Without thinking, I move my hand to my stomach and I feel a flutter. Looking down, I’m wearing a black and white stripy dress and I’ve got a bump… a big one! The house will be four people again soon, but I don’t want William to go still. Oliver hands me a plate with turkey and William is helping make Ellie’s plate._

_Everyone is happy, life is calm._

_My eyes fill with tears._

_Something isn’t right._

_I stand up and the bump is gone._

_William and Ellie are gone._

_I reach out to Oliver but he’s too far away._

_He keeps moving away._

_I scream his name, until he disappears._

_The ground disappears from beneath me and I’m falling._

_I keep falling and falling._

_There’s no one to help me._

_I can’t stop falling._

_-_

I gasp, looking around. _Where am I?_ _Where’s Oliver and William?_ I keep looking around and it takes me a moment to realise I’m in _my_ apartment in Brooklyn, just William and I. I ate, then I fell asleep. Yes, that’s right. But now it’s dark, the only light coming in from the street, but it’s dull. William must’ve turned off the lights. I breathe out as my body finally calms post nightmare. I look at my cell, 04:28, 2 voicemails and 9 texts from Lizzie and Neya. _Way too early to deal with their drunken messages._

 

I drape a blanket around my shoulders and head to William’s room. He’ll either be mid-nightmare or awake because of a nightmare. As quietly as possible, I open the door and I see William on his Xbox, headphones on, fully immersed in some shooting game. He doesn’t notice me, until I sit down next to him, causing him to jump a bit.

 

“Nightmare?” I ask, once he’s taken off his headphones.

 

He keeps playing, as if I wasn’t there or didn’t ask him anything. “Yeah,” He finally responds. “What about you?” He pauses the game and looks at me.

 

Since Oliver and prison and running, I’ve had nightmares. From Diaz killing William and Oliver to just being alone. But what I’m seeing isn’t the nightmare part, it’s the fact that when I wake up, I have to face the fact that I _have_ lost everyone I love, apart from William. I can’t be with my husband, my mom and friends don’t even know I’m alive...

 

I look up at William, realising I haven’t answered his question. _Maybe he was thinking too_. “Yeah. It started off nice, you, your dad and I,” I leave out the fact I was pregnant and we had a daughter. “We were having like thanksgiving dinner or maybe Christmas. You were going to college in the fall so I felt sad because it was like one of our last with you living at home.” I smile at that part, wishing that was the end of the dream. “Then everyone disappeared. I knew something was wrong. I felt cold… numb…” I stop. He doesn’t need to know this. “Then I came in here to see my favorite 13 year old.” I playfully poke him with my elbow.

 

He smiles sadly and turns back to his game. “You died. I was all alone.” _His nightmare?_

 

I hear the pain, I hear the sadness and it breaks my heart. My poor boy. I want to reassure him that I will never leave him but I don’t want to lie. “I will do everything in my power to always be with you, to always be there for you,” I share the blanket with him. “And I want you to know that your dad would _never_ allow that to happen. I know that if I wasn’t here, he would _never_ have done what he did and if anything did happen to me,” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “If anything did happen, your father is a strong, smart man. He would be by your side, no matter what. I _promise_ you that.”

 

He doesn’t respond, maybe not believing me, but it’s true. If Oliver wanted out of that prison, he could. Easily. I know him and it takes a lot more than chains, concrete and a few low-level almost-cops with guns to keep Oliver down. _That’s why I kept thinking he would join us, why I still hold out hope he will find us and be with us._ But he made a deal. He goes to prison, the rest of us stay out. _Deal._ I close my eyes. It’s too early. I don’t want to think about this. Maybe he doesn’t even know we’re alive? _John would’ve told him by now or he would’ve seen it…_ It was all over the news. _Multiple bombs destroy Former-Mayor Oliver Queen’s house, moments after his wife and son were seen entering._ I hope he knows we’re alive. I hope he knows it was a trap I set up, in case we needed to run. I hope he knows.

 

"What are you playing?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

 

I watch him perform a headshot before he answers. “Halo 5.”

 

“What’s the aim?”

 

“Kill the bad guy.”

 

I roll my eyes. “Another great parenting moment. Pretty sure your dad’s gonna kill me.”

 

“He’d kill you for letting me play a _game_? When he’s done way worse? Hypocrite.” The words roll of his tongue like poison.

 

I don’t say anything. He’s angry at Oliver and I don’t blame him. “Well, in page 1 of every parenting magazine, it says Halo 5 is not good for children unless played with super cool adults.” I joke.

 

“Do you know any cool adults?” He glances at me as he kills another character.

 

“Hey!” I fake being offended. “Pass a controller.”

 

He pauses again and looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “You sure?” _Absolutely not. I hate these games._ But I want to spend time with him and take an interest in what he likes. So I nod. “K,” He hands me a controller. “Let me just save before you accidentally kill me instead.”

 

I scoff. “I’d neve-”

 

“Remember last time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to thank everyone who is reading!
> 
> I also wanted to let everyone know that in the upcoming chapters, there may be similarities to Season 7 but it will not follow the same plot.


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